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The Bell Tolls (AYTO AU)

Mon, 22 Apr 2024 10:45:08 GMT

Posted by: igiko

"I'm not going," says Mithra.

"Won't you at least give it a try?" asks Rutile, imploring. "It's been so long since you met other people besides myself and Mitile. I think you might enjoy it."

It's been a week since Rutile came to him, bearing news about an invitation to a reality television show where singles in their advanced years meet with the prospect of romance between them. Supposedly, there are plenty of games, talks, and intercourse to go around. Rutile has shown him a few clips in the hopes of piquing his interest, only for every instance of explosive emotion or raunchy nudity to kill his halfway tolerant mood even more. It all looks and sounds like something Tiletta might have enjoyed, which alone is reason enough for Mithra to decline, no matter how many times Rutile harasses him about going.

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Where everyone but I sleep

Sun, 26 Mar 2023 13:26:45 GMT

Posted by: igiko

Roland Glenbrook is 20 years old when he questions his sanity.

No, he thinks after a pause, there's nothing wrong with his mind. But something strange is going on in his new home—or is it that he's more susceptible to ghost stories than he first thought?

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Hahahaaa

Sat, 18 Mar 2023 12:56:01 GMT

Posted by: igiko

400 years ago, the Origin defeated the Singularity in a bloody battle to safeguard creation. Neither of them survived the encounter. However, the Origin's soul was pulled into the souls of his derivatives—those who'd shared his identity yet taken diverging paths from his in their original lives. The Origin's soul splintered into fragments, and those fragments nestled into the souls of the derivatives, awakening them to their lost memories. In exchange for the boon of the Origin's immortality, they surrendered the gift of reincarnation.

But such boon was short-lived. While their newfound longevity cultivated their powers over decades and scores, the derivatives' strengths paled to that of their origin's. One after another, they gave themselves to the same cause as their originator, passing fragments of his soul onto their surviving counterparts while what remained of themselves dissipated into nothingness. At the turn of the third century, only two derivatives remained.

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Post-war rooming

Sat, 11 Mar 2023 11:02:30 GMT

Posted by: igiko

The war is over. Glenbrook is on its way to recovery, slowly but surely, in an era of peaceful uncertainty. There's much to be done, and Roland is glad for it.

Still, wearied though he is at the end of each day, he returns to his old chamber for a spell every night before retiring to his kingly quarters. Then, on the day of Rutile's visit from the world of magic, he grasps Rutile's hand and says, "There's been much and more of which to apprise yourself since your arrival. How are you feeling? If you find yourself feeling lightheaded, I've a place prepared for you."

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Mithra the matchmaker

Wed, 15 Feb 2023 03:17:56 GMT

Posted by: igiko

It’s a tale as old as time—wizards who cheer with their hands up to the flowers of their fated union that burst from their hearts before choking on the petals while their northern cousins cackle in the background. Then there are wizards who are left at the floral altar, because their human counterparts never knew to RSVP, at which point everyone else shows up with cutlery. Rutile, it seems, is going to be one of those latter wizards served on a silver platter for those in search of easy mana stones.

Mitile is beside himself at the revelation that not a single petal has grown on the seed of Rutile’s heart. At the tender age of fifteen, Mitile already sports a few petals to match those that dot Riquet’s chest. Although he can’t see them, Rutile imagines based on Mitile’s vivid descriptions that the blooming flowers he and Riquet share must be beautiful.

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We all meander here.

Sat, 11 Feb 2023 03:24:05 GMT

Posted by: igiko

Sometime later, he learns that memories are fickle where worlds congregate. In other words, the Rutile Flores he encounters on the streets and the ON world, whose gentle green eyes peer into his own without a shred of recognition, is probably not his match from the manor. Roland understands this, yet his heart clenches when their paths cross in front of a café, where Rutile waves at him.

"Would you like to join us for brunch?" asks Rutile. Across the small outdoor table, Figaro smiles amiably.

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只今 . . .

Fri, 03 Feb 2023 10:47:06 GMT

Posted by: igiko

Four years after Cordelia's passing, Roland procures the globe from the royal family's bedchambers. With naught but a bag of his most pertinent possessions, he weaves through the fabric of space and time to enter Southern Country. There, Rutile greets him with an embrace.

"Welcome home," he says, to which Roland nods.

"I'm home."

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Some gibberish about nature.

Wed, 25 Jan 2023 08:58:08 GMT

Posted by: igiko

"Is something on your mind, Roland?"

Rutile's voice is gentle as Roland glances in his direction, only to turn away. On the other side of the window in the distance, time marches relentlessly, carried by the silent waves of the Norzelia River.

"Have I ever told you about the Norzelia River? It's a vast body of water that joins all of Norzelia, regardless of our differences. Unlike people, the magnanimity of nature is all-encompassing . . . "

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Someone's got that drip and it isn't him.

Thu, 19 Jan 2023 12:51:20 GMT

Posted by: igiko

Drip.

How many weeks has it been?

Drip. Drip.

Winter must be approaching. While it doesn't snow in Glenbrook, the air has grown thin and heavy at once with moisture. Droplets of water fall through the cracks between the stones, echoing purely within the walls of his gaol. Roland exhales, riding out the mild shiver that shakes his shoulders, as he watches the growing puddle by his feet when something in the air twists.

Ah. It's you again.

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This is not strong.

Fri, 06 Jan 2023 14:49:05 GMT

Posted by: igiko

The bookstore right around the corner of his tutee's apartment is a prolific hub for books of all genres and demographics. While ░▒░▒░░ isn't an especially avid reader, he's reminded by the many colorful covers on display behind the glass wall one day: supposedly, there's a series of picture books that have been gaining popularity within the past year, though acquiring so much as a single volume has proven to be something of a challenge for fans.

Whereas the city bursts with metropolitan hustle and bustle, a hush washes over the bookstore interior. Nobody pays ░▒░▒░░ any mind as he wanders over to an unoccupied bookshelf and scans its contents. The books here are ordinary paperbacks, printed in ink and bound with glue. He turns around to a shelf of digital tablets and grasps his chin in thought, racking his brain for something familiar, when a soft voice navigates through the quiet from a distance:

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Meet the Hobo

Fri, 30 Dec 2022 11:51:59 GMT

Posted by: igiko

Haha. Who knows how to write Rutile? I sure don't.

"Is she hurt anywhere? Please let me help. . . . Ortonik Setomaouge!"

A strange, colorful light discharges from the unfamiliar man in unusual garbs and envelopes the child in Roland's arms. Her cries, wan from starvation and sickness, must have attracted the bright-eyed man's attention. Roland raises his hooded face and waits for the light to fade before he speaks, stopping the man from a second attempt.

"There is no need," he says, words measured. "This child . . . has already passed."

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Mmm, skewers.

Thu, 15 Sep 2022 20:52:59 GMT

Posted by: igiko

As the memories fade over the years, they revisit him in his dreams. In one such instance, he recalls her face and voice.

"Lucretia," he says, handing her a skewer, "try this."

"What is it?" she asks, taking it. She's young—far younger in appearance than the first and last times they met.

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"잘 지냈어?"

Wed, 10 Aug 2022 09:21:07 GMT

Posted by: igiko

He lays a flower before the grave to join the rest.

"Have you been well?"

The rhythmic chirping of nocturnal insects greets Sieghart as he takes a seat on the ground. The last of the visitors for the annual event have gone, leaving him alone in the temple's resting grounds. Still, he sits cross-legged in a suit with his arms rested against his thighs.

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The Keeper

Mon, 08 Aug 2022 01:24:02 GMT

Posted by: igiko

Hey, you. How much longer are you going to do this?

. . .

Ignoring me now? Hah! That's just what a coward does.

"̷̫̦̩̗͛̈́̒͜Ŝ̴̜̦̟̐͆́̕͜͠ĭ̷̡̻̫̭̠̯̔̄̃̅͛̎ẻ̸̢̺͎̤̹͈̥̳̞̥̘̩̃̍̈͛͋͌͝͝͝g̵̨̢̤̤̬͖̥̠̝̼͕͊͛̍́̓̆́̒͘h̷̙͔͇̰̗̯͛ͅa̶̛̦͑̊̌͊̍̈́̔̿ṛ̴̬͙̭̀̆̾̑͋͠͝t̶͍̫̮̘͕͍̣̔̿̓͆͆̉̆͠͝͠?̷̣̄̔̌͗̏̈́́̚͜͠"̵̗̦͈̄̄̅̌̈́̍̈͛̐͌͝

"Keeper?"

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Why Oh Why

Thu, 04 Aug 2022 09:19:12 GMT

Posted by: igiko

"Hey, elf. I have a favor to ask."

Grandiel sighs, his breath light in spite of his very full hands with Aikawa, who's entertaining Kyle and Cindy in the distance. "Another favor? What is it this time?"

"It's nothing big. You're a master wizard, aren't you? I just need you to teach me a spell."

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Oldies

Fri, 13 May 2022 21:43:46 GMT

Posted by: igiko

Apparently, I wrote these last year and forgot that I had until I stumbled across them just now. Wild. So I'll post them without editing for posterity.

He writes about Neo-Kounat, the resurrected kingdom of magic founded by the sole survivor of the original. He writes about the stories of magic from a limited point of view, but never inserts himself. Neo-Kounat prospered longer than its father.

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Before.

Out of the corner of your eyes you see Elesis giving you a skeptical look. Little escapes her notice, but even fewer skirts by yours. Your demeanor has shifted since the moment of your timeless return, and she's the first—perhaps even the only one—to have noticed.

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Lullaby

Thu, 05 May 2022 09:35:41 GMT

Posted by: igiko

They move to a remote region of Aernas, close to familiarity yet far removed enough to be comfortable in their new routine. Dorothy has left behind that which shackled her; Rufus, meanwhile, can be said to have followed her with nothing left for him in the Underworld. They relocate with almost empty hands, save for the essentials to carve out an honest living for themselves, which definitely includes a trunkful of firearms.

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"oh no was i the gold digger all along"

Wed, 04 May 2022 09:02:02 GMT

Posted by: igiko

Cyrus watches the onslaught of Primrose's curiosity with a smile that he conceals behind a cup of tea. Her words are as precise as her aim is with the dagger, and more is said than uttered at the table by day's end. The sun has begun to set and dye the town in its warm hues when he sets the cup down on its plate; the innocuous clink of ceramic pierces the one-sided chatter, drawing eyes his way after they'd long forgotten his presence.

"It's gotten to be rather late," he says simply. "Thank you for your hospitality, Primrose."

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If, then.

Thu, 14 Apr 2022 09:42:45 GMT

Posted by: igiko

Noblecourt is just around the corner when Aoko's legs give out under her. Considering this is her first venture in Orsterra, Cyrus isn't entirely surprised that she's reached her limit amid all the walking and battling. Of course, given the type of person she is, she tries to insist that she can make the remaining distance when she winces from shifting weight onto her feet. Cupping his chin, he watches her, awash in the orange rays of the sunset, and nods after some consideration.

"It can't be helped."

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RSVP (mystery)

Sun, 03 Apr 2022 06:20:43 GMT

Posted by: igiko

"What do you need me there for?"

"While a witness isn't strictly necessary . . . it'll ensure that that one stays in line."

What does that mean?

Lass has his suspicions when Rufus invites him to witness a contract signing. He's gotten better over the months, if not years, but even now it can be a little difficult to read between the apathetic lines where Rufus is concerned. One thing's for sure, though: Rufus wouldn't have extended this invitation if it wasn't something important, so Lass accepts in spite of his lingering puzzlement.

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Sieghart becomes an author.

Mon, 06 Sep 2021 04:06:17 GMT

Posted by: igiko

"My purpose was to balance the world of good and evil. Now that there's nothing left to balance, the purpose for my existence is over."

"Demons destroy countless worlds in their lifetime. Half-baked though you are, the immortal blood of deities runs through your veins. What are you still doing here?"

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I wanted to write something sad.

Sun, 07 Mar 2021 05:54:53 GMT

Posted by: igiko

The body may age, but the soul is eternal. Even while bedridden and sapped of the strength she's carried for so long, Dorothy is as beautiful as she was the year they met. That fact will never change.

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Pirate AU feat. orphans

Sun, 21 Feb 2021 01:41:41 GMT

Posted by: igiko

He snaps his fingers.

Nothing.

Across him, Dorothy watches with her chin propped on her palm. This time, though, rather than comment on his appearance ("I've never seen ears as pointed as yours before." "It's rare that I see ears so round.") she says, "You know, you do that quite often."

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Hilda and Rufus visit the zoo (no)

Thu, 28 Jan 2021 02:05:13 GMT

Posted by: igiko

As ever, Lass' steps are silent in spite of his open approach. This amount of wariness is reserved for him alone, Rufus knows: His brother is nowhere near as guarded around the rest of the Chase. The stiff set of Lass' shoulders is just one sign of the tension that thickens in the air as he says, "Who was that?"

"Who was whom?" asks Rufus.

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Nu-indulgent OTP AU

Mon, 25 Jan 2021 22:38:00 GMT

Posted by: igiko

“Efficient work as always.” The man sips his drink at the bar. “I have another job for you.”

Rufus pockets the bills and replies, “If it isn’t urgent, I’ll hear about it tomorrow.” At the man’s look of surprise, he asks with narrowed eyes, “Is there a problem?”

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